


The Analyzing of Ticci Toby by Timothy Wright

by HeyItsHoot



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Marble Hornets
Genre: Creepypasta, DEEP SHIT, M/M, Ticcimask - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-06-21 20:19:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15565653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyItsHoot/pseuds/HeyItsHoot
Summary: Timothy, the infamous Masky, writes analysis on his fellow creepypastas. He's worked his way through a good number of them, his latest being Toby Erin Rogers.However, this isn't the usual story of the two proxies hating each other, but it's in no way a fairy tale either. Follow along as Masky attempts to gain an understanding of Toby Rogers and maybe gets more than he was initially asking for.





	1. Entry #1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note.
> 
> Well, hello there! Welcome to this story. First, I would like to remind everyone I do not own any creepypastas, only my original story line. I wish I did, but what are you going to do? I hope you enjoy and I'm willing to answer any questions and take suggestions. *tips fedora*
> 
> So, quick summary. In this version, Masky faces small issues with understanding the others and finds analyzing them helpful. This is a Ticcimask fan fiction and I will not tolerate any hate in the comments. This is just for fun and to hone my skills in writing. Thank you for reading.

My name is Timothy Wright, otherwise known as Masky. This is the first entry in my analysis of the individual known as Tobias Erin Rogers, aka Ticci Toby.

I suppose I should start with what I, and probably you, know already.

Ticci Toby is many things. He was a son and a brother, and he was a mentally unstable person.

Is a mentally unstable person. 

He is a boy with scars and a stutter. He is a person with issues, but who isn't? He can't feel pain, it makes him a danger to himself and others. It's a wonder he hasn't snapped his own neck yet, whether by accident or just by being as crazy as he is. But, still, he's more.

Toby is not all there in the head at times, he has delusions on his worst days and voices in his head on his best. He's fucked up, we all are. He is someone worthy of being hated and loved all at once, an opinion I had barely come to terms with. Trust me, it was a hard won battle to see past all the annoying shit Toby has hassled me with on a daily basis for as long as I've known him.

He's a friend, something I haven't always agreed with. Only recently have I found it easy to refer to him as such.

He was annoying, is annoying. Only, now that I'm less irritated by everything he does, do I see the difference between his annoying nature and his endearing attitude. God he's still such an ass sometimes. His endless calls of 'Hey Masky!' and whatever else he chose to annoy me about at any given moment of the day were easily overused. But, I had moved past it. Mostly.

He is a proxy, another thing I didn't particularly like a one time. 

He was better than me at my own job at one point. Slenderman made him second in command instead of me at that time and, as unprofessional as it was, I did not take it well. But, I did come to terms with it, begrudgingly, and eventually wormed my way back to being a respected proxy instead of acting like a child more than I already had been.

Toby. Tobias. I can't say he's a good person, granted I can't say that about any of us. Not even Sally, despite her kindness. But, he's not evil. He's overly childish, brash, and a bit spiteful at times, but he could be kind. He has his moments, most of them with Sally and EJ, but he still had them.

I witnessed him cry before. I wasn't a friend to him yet, but I believe it to be a moment that led us to the friendship we have now, however unstable it may be. He'd broken down about his sister, Lyra. It came to my attention after that about just how frequently he fretted over his loss of her, despite having had time to move on. Of course, I understood it well enough. Some people take longer, and, when combined with his disorders, it made sense Toby was taking more time.

His bipolar disorder was one of his most frustrating parts when we first started the road to becoming friends. I didn't blame him for his emotions; I couldn't. He wasn't in control of that, but I can't say it made it any easier. I'd get close to having an actual conversation with him and he'd switch up everything in seconds, leaving me in the dust with no idea what had happened.

It never got easier, he refused any medications or any kind of help for any disorders. We doubted they'd work anyway. But, it wasn't impossible to see past the disorder. EJ was his first friend, and he helped me see past my childish jealousy when Toby was the number one proxy, and again when I found it difficult to hold conversations with him. I never properly thanked him, perhaps I'll do something after this for him.

Our friendship is...unsteady to say the least. It's not as bad as it was before, he still trips me in the halls and calls my name while I'm working simply to annoy me, but it certainly isn't best friend level either. I do wonder if we'll ever make it there.

Brian and I are close to that level, I suppose. I certainly find it easier to communicate with him rather than Toby, but Toby seems more alive than Brian sometimes.

His tics and twitches were what first caught my attention about him. Of course, most people noticed them as it's not deemed normal and often surprises you when movement shifts suddenly in your peripheral vision. The point is, it brought him to my attention at any given point of the day where he was even remotely near me.

It was about a month after we first transitioned to the stage of friends when it happened. He became less likely to scream my name from across the house than he was to walk into my room, uninvited, and plop down on my bed like it was his rightful place in the world. The first time it happened, I was very unnerved. Toby not shouting, but instead walking in and calmly greeting me? It wasn't normal.

It happened again and again in different ways until it became normal and he was in my field of vision while I did anything around the house. It wasn't in a stalker way, though it wouldn't surprise me given who all lived in the house. It was more of a comforting presence. Like he lingered to let me know I wasn't alone.

I guess it was his way of doing something people hadn't done for him.

I always knew he was there, given the twitching, but I learned to pick up on his sudden, and often deadly silent, approaches in other ways. I learned which footsteps belonged to Toby, amongst other things. He was always doing something to appear normal, making food he picked at instead of wolfing down or striking up a meaningless conversation with whoever else happened to be in the room. But, perhaps he just wanted to be close to me. I would understand that, after all it did still feel odd to have even slightly normal conversations with him. Occasionally, we even had the most serious ones I'd had in months. It feels unbelievably weird saying that even though it's true.

Toby had also been a victim, could still be considered one in certain aspects. He told me about his father one night, locked away in my room near midnight. I saw this as our official start of the friendship we shared.

I'd been sitting in my chair at my desk, reviewing a news report from the town outside the woods, and Toby was sitting cross legged on my bed. Any other time I'd be on him about the way he was wrinkling my sheets and dirtying them with his shoes, but this time was different.

Toby had entered my room after I'd finished dinner downstairs. He'd been watching television with LJ when I'd started up the stairs, catching my eye as I did. He hadn't said anything or even made any movement besides turning back to the screen, so I'd went to my room as planned. Minutes later, my door opened and closed, Toby now inside and clicking the lock in place before choosing his spot on the bed.

I had barely looked at him, he didn't like being stared at, but I knew something was wrong. No comments or annoyances came from him at all. I didn't say anything, and continued rereading the same passage over and over again so I wouldn't cause him to switch up unexpectedly. It alarmed me that I was aware of how to approach him despite not having been in many situations like this.

An hour later, I was still reading the paper I'd nearly memorized by then when he decided to speak. It was...unexpected to hear my actual name rather than Masky from Toby, but I made no comment at the time.

He told me everything, some of which I already knew from others as well as the occasion detail from Toby himself mentioning it, but I hadn't expected him to open up like this. Toby was unexpected.

Toby wasn't completely malicious, unless you only viewed him while he worked. He told me once about how he'd been interviewed several times at the mental hospital, when he'd been asked about seeing Slenderman. Toby had tried to warn people against looking into it, going against what he knew was true and lying to them about it being fake. It hadn't saved them, curiosity had gotten to those people. They kept him locked up and ended up dying despite him trying to protect them.

I asked him, once, if he thought of trying medication again. He wouldn't talk to me for a week, something I found more uncomfortable than I'd like to admit. Sally joined him in the vow of silence and I quickly apologized before they converted the entire house into shunning me.

Toby had vicious nightmares, something common in creepypastas. He often woke half of the house with them until we went out for ear plugs in town so nobody would try murdering him from their lack of sleep. I could never wear them, I felt too guilty despite it not being my fault. By that point, I already knew about his father and couldn't stand the idea of blocking out his pain just so I would feel better. So, I awoke every time he did when they were bad enough to warrant screams, and I listened.

He found out about it a week later and that was when he began the almost stalking I mentioned before. He'd found me in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in hand while I sat at the table, and asked why I was awake. Lying to him had become harder since I'd seen him cry, so I told him the truth. He'd scoffed, a childish mockery following about how I didn't need to worry about him so much, but I told him that was an uphill battle.

He hadn't believed me at first, but he'd found me again the next morning, awake after he'd come downstairs to once again drown his sore throat in cold water. I repeated that I felt guilty and would be awake if he needed me before returning to my bed. After that, he was everywhere I was.

Looking back on it, my previous assumption seems accurate. He does appear to want to offer something in return for my guilt. I never mentioned it, but he knew I was aware of what he was doing. He kept up his attempts at acting like it wasn't his intention to be there in the corner of my eye at any given moment, but I still never stopped him. It was achieving its purpose of being comforting, so I allowed it.

He's just entered my room again. This is the third time today. He's a silent as ever, making humming noises and attempting to distract me. If only he knew just what I was writing, hm? I wonder just how he'd react to that.

He's lurking behind me, attempting to read what I'm writing over my shoulder, but I'm blocking it off. There's a reason I never let him know I have a notebook like this, he'd tell everyone what I wrote in seconds and I didn't want that.

There was one time I considered sharing the notebooks with others, not including Slenderman. He was aware, he was always aware. I considered showing people, or maybe just saying the things I thought about them, but I decided against it. Not everyone likes being analysed.

I consider again if telling Toby would further progress our friendship. It might, but, then again, Toby was about as subtle as a horse kick to the face. If I said something wrong or he misunderstood, I'd lose the second closest person I had.

Toby is gone now, but he still lingers here. My bed is wrinkled and my door left cracked open, but it's more that I feel him than see him. I still feel his goggle covered eyes glued to me, watching me.

I'd asked EJ before if he ever felt like Toby was watching him, but he hadn't answered. I assumed it was a no. Perhaps I shall bring it up again.


	2. Entry #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masky continues his work.

My name is Timothy Wright, otherwise known as Masky. This is the second entry in my analysis of the individual known as Tobias Erin Rogers, aka Ticci Toby. 

Tobias is someone who hates being called Mr. Rogers. I learned that minutes after meeting him officially, and it was not a pleasant meeting. My mask and my jaw did not appreciate the punch he delivered, nor did Slenderman or Toby’s bruised hand. I don’t think he’d ever punched someone, but I could be wrong. He was the type to repeat stupid actions, so it’s possible he’d hit many people like that before.

My mask had bent a little and was easily fixed, but my jaw hurt for days and had a bruise. Sally had personally wrapped Toby’s hand, even if he’d spouted off nonsense about how he wasn’t able to feel it and didn’t need to be babied. It was concerning how he blew off injuries now that I’m not thinking about it with a hurt jaw and bruised ego.

Days after I’ve written the first entry of my thoughts on Toby Rogers and, in my opinion, I believe he is both the easiest and the hardest to write about. Well, maybe LJ has him beat, but I haven’t done his entry yet. He seems like the type to overcomplicate things without even trying.

When I started analyzing the others, I didn’t view it as a way to vent what I was thinking, but, instead, I saw it as a way to express couldn’t say to them. I viewed it as breaking them down so I could effectively interact with them, focusing on the little details I overlooked initially in order to understand just who I was talking to.

And, it worked. I eased up in certain conversations and bared down in others, working around roadblocks they presented and establishing a small bit of trust. Well, as much trust you could have around these killers.

Toby was the most affected by the transition from how we were to where we are. At times, he looks confused by our friendship. Each new development causes him to attempt to backtrack his way out of the situation, as if the change constantly alarms him. I say he trusts me, more than before, but he also is wary of me.

I understand it, I understand him, but it’s still so difficult to approach things with him. Often, waiting is the only option. Waiting for him to speak up or approach me, it’s infuriating.

Infuriating. Oh my. Perhaps I am less aware of how I feel than I thought previously. I hadn’t thought I was made upset by this, but I see now I was. I will work on that, next time Toby has a nightmare. They’ve become less frequent recently. He’s been in a better, more stable mood recently. Well, as stable as the infamous Ticci Toby can be.

I had work today, an assignment in town which required both Brian and Toby. I won’t mention details, it’s not very important, but I will mention something I took notice of while in the process of completing my...our job. Toby wouldn’t look at me the entire time. He spoke to me, mutters as usual while on the job, but never did he let his goggled eyes drift to me. Everytime he twitched or spoke a random word, I glanced at him and was disappointed.

Brian could tell I felt off and tried asking me about it when we returned, but I brushed it off to come write it out here. I’ll apologize later.

Maybe, despite my request that he not do so, Eyeless Jack mentioned my questions to Toby. It would explain why he was distant. It he continued to display such behavior, I shall investigate further. For now, I believe this entry is done. I can’t give a clear opinion with how upset I am quickly becoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, author here! Yes, this is short, but I had to make at least one short. That is generally how journal entries go, not always the same length. I hope you enjoyed. I want to give it a good pacing, but as I said, I am still trying to better my skills. That being said, I welcome constructive criticism, as well as recommendations and corrections. I'll answer any questions and I adore comments. Until next time!


	3. Entry #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another short entry focused on recent events around the group.

My name is Timothy Wright, otherwise known as Masky. This is the third entry in my analysis of the individual known as Tobias Erin Rogers, aka Ticci Toby.

There was an...altercation this morning between Toby and EJ. I hesitate to call it that for two reasons. The first being it was hardly noticeable and the second, it’s quite hard to imagine the two having a dispute.

I had woken up a little late, so everyone was halfway through breakfast when I ‘graced them with my presence’ as quoted from Jeff. When I took a seat at the table, I noticed the way it felt off. Toby, goggles around his neck, was glaring at EJ with a fierceness he used to reserve for me. EJ appeared to do the same, but who could tell? Nobody else seemed to take notice.

I finished my food quickly, but lingered when the others, excluding Toby, began to dissipate. He looked at me when I nudged my foot against his ad asked what was wrong. He told me he’d had a disagreement over personal issues with EJ.

I knew better than to ask, but I still wanted to. When he didn’t give up anything else, I cleaned our plates and let him know I was going to being working in my room today and he would have to be quiet if he entered. He’d laughed at that and I went upstairs feeling accomplished. 

I wasn’t working, but Toby rarely entered my room when I gave him that warning. I needed to continue my analysis. Not only on him, mind you. That would warrant a possible obsession. I first wrote another entry on Sally. I spent time with her the day before and, well, I needed to update it.

I find Toby to have become somewhat of a constant in my life now, despite the oddities we’ve been experiencing between us. He’s continued his avoidance of looking at me unless directly speaking to me with nobody else in attendance. Even then, it’s still quite obvious he’s trying not to.

I mentioned it to Eyeless yesterday morning and he confirmed that he’d said something about my unease at being watched to Toby out of concern for our friendship and promptly apologized. I accepted and moved on, attempting to find a proper time to discuss the confusion with Toby in order to let him relax around me again.

However, that doesn’t seem to be an option yet. I will update my progress again when the need arises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thank you oh so very much for joining me once again in my writing adventures. I know not many people enjoy this exact type of story, but it means a lot to me that some do. I have also opened at instagram (@_who_am_i_1104_) for anyone who wishes to see anything about my stories and what I'm inspired by. Such as, when I write, I'm usually thinking about a certain book or lyric that inspires me to write a character's actions a certain way. It will also keep you updated on when I'll be posting and any questions can be asked there as well. Thank you and have a good evening!
> 
> Also, I apologize for the shortness, but I didn't want to make a lot of things happen at once. A relationship doesn't work like that. I want to focus on the little things that build their friendship first, showing them learn who and what they are to each other slowly and realistically.


	4. Entry #4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timothy seeks out the source of his biased behavior.

My name is Timothy Wright, otherwise known as Masky. This is the fourth entry in my analysis of the individual known as Tobias Erin Rogers, aka Ticci Toby.

Toby and Eyeless Jack are speaking again and the glares have officially ceased, something I feel somewhat pleased about. They're back to the beyond awkward friendship they have, not that I could judge them, given that my odd understanding with the duel hatchet wielder isn't any better.

Now, with that out of the way, I have something I need to discuss rather than want to. Toby and I talked late last night about what he and EJ had fought about. He claimed that I was uncomfortable around him. Of course, I denied Toby's surprising accusations, telling him I only wanted to see if everyone felt the way I did around him.

Uncomfortable was never a word I saw myself using about anything to do with Toby anymore, so it's easy to imagine why I was taken aback. Something like this could have damaged everything we'd worked for, I was just lucky I cornered him and talked it out. Still, I'm not sure he understood me completely. I'm not sure Toby ever understands anything to do with feelings, or that any of us do. Myself included.

Of course, that brings us to our next topic. The way I feel towards him was called into question by my own consciousness and I feel it necessary to disclose it here should I become biased in my break down of Toby. It's a professional courtesy, as well as a possible aid to my judgement from here on out. Also, it just helps to write it down, no matter how pathetic or soft it makes me sound.

I feel close to Toby. Wow. That is a statement I never thought I would be able admit to anyone, let alone myself, but it remains true.

He's different than Brian is, but not in a bad way. He's not just a fellow killer anymore. Well, at least in terms of how I feel toward him. I am...somewhat soothed with him, untroubled. The very thought makes my eyes roll. It's a cliche, a rather obvious one at that, and I'm not the first to take notice of our recent closeness either.

As to those noticing our relationships changes, that will be discussed at a later date. For now, I wish to get this out before I go mad with over thinking this and rip the page from the binding.

Toby has become someone I feel reassured by, I'm at ease around him. I can speak seriously with him, but also be found spouting childish insults at him on occasion. Of course, it's always intended to be friendly banter, but it's something I don't have with others. My relationship with them is usually tense, or strictly professional. Or, in Brian's case, at ease in a different way. Less amiable. Toby's still annoying and can be an asshole when he feels like it, but he's not just that anymore. He has become more than a simple thorn in my side.

Tobias Erin Rogers is my friend, and more. I'm not a child and I won't spout off immature words like suggesting I have something as asinine as a crush on him, but I won't lie to myself either. That won't help anybody in this situation.

I know I have some sort of feelings for him, lukewarm ones, I just don't know what this implies I should do. I'm not a teenager in high school and Toby isn't my childhood best friend that I just somehow realized I'm in love with. I am a killer, a proxy. We both are. To me, that means we don't have the time for figuring out our emotions, let alone progressing ourselves to anything else. But, I know it could happen should I let it and should Toby return my feelings.

I feel like a kid again, pulling on pigtails for attention. The adult thing to do is to attempt to work it out and speak to Toby about it, it's the right thing to do as well. I know Toby wouldn't stop being my friend because of it, so I'm not hesitating because of that. I'm more worried he will return my feelings. It's not like we can exactly act as a normal couple. That's an idiotic delusion. We murder people for fucks sake. And we like it. We don't go on dates and hold hands and smile at each other like we have no brains in our bodies.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Until I conclude my next few entries, I should put this aside and figure it out on my own time. This is unprofessional and is wasting space in my analysis.

Toby is a killer. I know I've previously stated it, but I was reminded of it today.

Slenderman sent us, meaning Toby and me, on a mission two towns west of us. We appear to be back to normal, as in before he started avoiding his gaze, and we traveled in a rather pleasant time period. We joked around some of the time and discussed things that happened around the house, we walked in silence for part of it and it was farther from awkward than I expected. I think this was when I first noticed the comfort he provides me with.

He is still the natural born trouble maker he always was, laughing up a storm when we weren't near anywhere people could hear us. I don't think he'd care if there were, it's just more victims to us anyway. He wasn't bubbly per say, that was more up Sally's avenue, but he wasn't stoic like Brian was most of the time. I found that endearing. I say so here only because he called me out on being calm and asked why I was being so weird. At first, I didn't quite get what he meant. I had been acting this way for months, but I guess he still wasn't used to our playful conversations in place of our old fights.

I simply stated I found him endearing now that we were friends and he'd promptly shut up after that.

When we arrived at the house, Toby was somewhat fatigued. It'd been a while since he'd gone this far out in such a short period of time, and he'd exerted his usual amount of energy on the way over. However, the minute we stepped inside, I saw the shift.

It wasn't the first time he's killed around me and it most certainly won't be the last, but I think I'd been softening him in my mind. It wasn't hard to do, Toby could be kind when he chose to do so. He could be comforting and almost gentle, but he wasn't just that. He was angry and downright scary at times, not that I'd ever tell Toby he unnerved me just as much as the others. It wasn't in a bad way since I too was that way, but it wasn't what I first thought of when Toby came to mind.

It made me think harder about the way I've become biased in my opinion of Toby. Seeing him, hatchets slashing through the tied down victims, the crazy look in his eyes, clothes splattered with the reddish brownish color of his disgustingly dirty jacket mixing with the man's fluids. He was restless and venting everything out by doing this. I remember the times he wished he could do this to me, and how I wished the same about him most of the time before now.

I had barely even helped tie the guy down before Toby took over completely. He'd all but shoved me away from the newest target and soon to be victim of his hatchets. I wonder if he named them like people do in books. Not important.

The rope would have bruised the man's wrists, legs, and abdomen, had he lived long enough to give it time to form them. I think I've always been pleased by the way ropes looked when holding someone in place. They always struggle against it, a feeling I know hurt like a bitch before, during, and after. I guess, when your life is ending, you don't care about the pain. Escape plans block it out.

Toby hadn't given me enough time to fully enjoy the sight of the man panicking to escape from his binds when he began hacking off fingers. The guy was already bloody before, we'd stabbed him in the scuffle before we got him tied down, but now we were gaining some of the red color on ourselves. I got less, thanks to Toby pushing me back. My jacket had a few specks and my mask as well, I noticed later, but Toby ruined his jacket and pants with his slaughter.

Some time later, hours maybe, when we had cut off his limbs and removed any trace of ourselves, we left the house. I wasn't even irritated at the loss of my own chance at a kill. Watching Toby work was a lot like what most people think about music. It's calming, freeing. Afterwards, Toby is always relaxed in a way you never see him in otherwise. He's tired, using up all that energy does that to him, and he twitches less. He doesn't talk as much, but when he does he has a ghost of a smile in his goggle covered eyes.

Toby isn't normal and I can't think of him as just a normal high school kid you meet on the street. That's the difference between us and our victims. We aren't normal, we aren't innocent, we aren't clean handed, and we aren't victims to murder. Well, not Toby and I at least. Can't completely say that for all the others.

Still, Toby is fucked up in ways I can't say I'll ever completely understand and wouldn't even attempt to describe, but that isn't always a bad thing. I won't stop trying to learn about him, just like I won't stop learning about the others. It doesn't matter that I'm motivated to do so specifically for Toby at this moment, I just have to keep moving. Keep learning. I have to. It's the only way I can understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to longer chapters! Once again, thank you for joining me in enjoying this story! I'm putting my heart into this and, honestly, I feel so happy that people are reading something I made in my head! Thank you for your lovely comments and, as always, you can follow my instagram @_who_am_i_1104_ and I'm open to any questions, comments, criticism, etc!


	5. Entry #5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is not always peachy.

My name is Timothy Wright, otherwise known as Masky. This is the fifth entry in my analysis of the individual known as Tobias Erin Rogers, aka Ticci Toby.   
  
I don't particularly enjoy writing this down. Truth be told, it makes my throat run dry just forming the letters on the page. I feel as if I'm swallowing bile and my stomach is weighed down by bricks. But, it must be included.   
  
Toby began having terrifying episodes two weeks ago today and it has set everyone in the house on edge. It's eerily quiet all the time now, something not very common even if we're a house full of serial killers. BEN's games, LJ and Jeff's laugh, Sally's giggling and tiny footsteps, etc. It was always some kind of noisy here.   
  
Now, everyone was on their best behavior. Quiet and listening, as if preparing for the next outbreak of panic from Toby. It got worse when he fully broke down a few days ago.   
  
Nobody is scared of him. I feel I have to make sure all who read this are aware of that. Scared of what he does, maybe. But, we've all done messed up things and we don't fear them. As such, we have - most of us, anyway - been helping out in little ways.   
  
For instance, Sally helps him the most when it comes to effort. Sally had been staying up every night the past few weeks to calm him to sleep. She tells him stories, runs her fingers through his hair, and stays with him until he is perfectly asleep. She wouldn't sleep until he was practically dead with how heavily he relaxed against her lap.   
  
I didn't want to say anything to her, but I saw her crying last night. Heavy, bloody, and heartbreaking tears. I knew then she was feeling the same pain Toby was. She was the most loving and caring of us all.   
  
EJ was helping too, something I hadn't noticed at first. Delivering tiny and safe, meaning nowhere near LJ's own, candies to brighten his worst moods. He was even offering to stay with Toby the entire night, going so far as to suggest not wearing his ear plugs so he would be awake to help Toby after his nightmares.   
  
Of course, Toby had refused. I didn't miss the way his eyes shot to me briefly. His stutter had come in ten fold, his tone rushed as he fought to get the sentence out quickly. I know EJ was suspicious the minute I left the living room to retire for bed, his masked eyes locked on me. As a fellow mask wearer, I knew better than most how to determine what was behind one. I just hoped Toby hadn't mentioned my staying awake, especially since I didn't wish to be kept awake even more by questions.   
  
Jeff took him into town the other day and it was the first time he'd laughed or looked relaxed in days. They'd slaughtered a family of five that had been planning a trip into the forest. Toby had immediately been ready to go and had no protests about letting Jeff pick how they died. That's how you know he's feeling the unease too.   
  
Even BEN is helping out. Sharing his video games and playing with Toby anytime he wished to do so. Even skipping a meal or two so he could continue playing with the other. It's always bright in the morning when the sounds of electronics and bangs come from the drowned boy's room, rousing most of us when we naturally awoke and removed our earplugs, myself not included. It made Toby feel more inclined to talk after a few games, so nobody minded to hear loud noises just after they'd been asleep.   
  
I still can't move past wanting to awake when he does, to suffer the same way he does. To let him know I'm awake and that I'm there. I stay in my bed, gasping at first from the surprise that always gets at me, and listen to his screams down the halls. It took me a few times, but I knew by now he mostly screamed while he was asleep and eventually quieted when he properly awoke.   
  
This morning, I was already downstairs, very much enjoying the dark and the quiet of the four o'clock hour, when Toby joined me in the kitchen. We left only one light on, as to not alert anyone wandering around that we were awake as well, and sat together at the table with two cups of coffee.   
  
He wasn't surprised to find me, not that I expected him to be. I asked him why he refused EJ's offer, and, in return, he asked why I didn't wear the ear plugs. He already knew the answer, but it confirmed my suspicions he was still wary of me, or anyone, caring for him. I rephrased my previous answer. It went something like this:   
  
_ I can't sleep well when someone I care for is suffering just a few doors down. I'm not a monster, and neither are you, Toby. _ __  
  
He answered my question then, mentioning he felt guilty that I was suffering for his nightmares just as he was. I knew this, as previously stated in entry one, but I was still taken aback to hear him admit it. He didn't want EJ to suffer like we were. Even if my suffering were voluntary and his would be as well.   
  
Before I could stop myself, I did something idiotic. I offered the same as EJ, assuming Toby wouldn't be completely against it since I was already staying awake for him anyway. He never answered, and I didn't ask again.   
  
We finished our coffee in silence, a comfortable one, and then retired to our separate rooms. Toby, probably to continue freaking out over whatever it was plaguing him, and myself to finish reviewing documents as instructed by Slenderman. I wasn't planning to continue writing today, tonight rather, even if I miss it sometimes. Writing it all out makes my mind not feel as cluttered anymore. Like arranging a bookshelf alphabetically. It makes it more comforting to the aesthetic of what's around when I'm trying to focus.   
  
But, that's not why I'm writing at all right now. Well, maybe just a bit. The main reason is that Slenderman must be snooping through my entries again. It's not surprising, given who he is, but it was surprising to find what I did left amongst the papers.   
  
Documents of Tobias Erin Rogers, aka Ticci Toby, and his stay at various hospitals, including the most recent mental hospital official documentation of his stay. There were three voice recorders as well, left in a plastic bag with a case of ear phones to hook into it.   
  
I guess I'm writing this because I can't decide if I want to listen and read them, or not. I know if they were mine, I definitely wouldn't want them read. I'd want them burned, destroyed, and erased from existence.   
  
However, from the analysis standpoint, I should read them and listen to the tapes. To better understand him, I should be open to any resources that would aid my research. It would give me a look into how other people see him, how he sees himself and exactly what he went through to get to where he is.   
  
I've put them away, for now. As soon as I saw the name and connected the dots, I locked it all up inside my closet on the top shelf. I can't say I'm not curious, really curious.   
  
I'm sure I'd know a lot of it. The abuse, the accidents, the disorders, etc. I know who Toby is as more than a kid with disorders, so I can't help but feel reading and listening to them will show me things as they really are.   
  
As for now, I think I should concluded this entry. Sally and Toby have just gone into his room, judging from their voices down the hall, and I should sleep now before he awakes and I don't sleep at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang it's been a hot minute. Truth be told, I've had this ready for so long, but I didn't want to post it. I'm still sort of hesitant, but I can't grow if I don't post it. Thank you for reading and, if you feel up to it, please answer the following question.
> 
> If you were in Masky's position of reading or not reading documents of someone like Toby, would you or would you not do it? I can see both sides. Wanting to understand him makes it a good idea to read it, but trust from your friend makes it a bad idea. Share your thoughts please!


	6. Entry #6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EJ values Toby. Does Timothy?

My name is Timothy Wright, otherwise known as Masky. This is the sixth entry in my analysis of the individual known as Tobias Erin Rogers, aka Ticci Toby.

It has been approximately one month since my previous entry. I feel I needed the time to collect data and remind myself of what I am. Slenderman has been very happy with me the last few weeks, after all I practically begged for more work. I may hate him and everything he stands for, I may wish death upon him, but he never gives me shit for wanting to overwork myself.

My kill count, even though it’s far too high to remember unless I take the time to truly think it all out, took a very high addition.

The documents are gone. I checked when I returned this morning after returning my analysis to its proper hiding place and they were gone. I assume it was Slenderman, since there were no abrasions were left on the locked doors from others attempting to enter the closet.

I can’t decide if it was for the best or not. At least now, however sick it makes me to even admit this, I can be thankful I wasn’t the one making the choice. I know myself too well to ignore the information contained in the documentations for too long. I had to go on a murder spree to contain myself, after all.

Enough about myself.

Toby’s condition has improved. His nightmares have limited themselves to three or four nights a week now, which is a blessing. He seems happier now, at least when I see him. I worry he’s avoiding me. Since I’ve been in and out most days all this month, I’ve seen him three or four times. Now, I’ve returned to my normal schedule of course, but he still hasn’t stopped by my room yet.

He always comes to see me after I return.

Perhaps I’m just being asinine, yet again. Toby isn’t as obsessed with other people as I am.

While I’m on the topic of other people and I have nothing to add that is specifically a direct Toby connection, I shall record the confrontation I experienced while out and about.

Eyeless Jack, the odd and abnormal being he is, finally found time to question me.

I don’t know how, or why, but he somehow convinced Slenderman to put him on a mission with me last week and he did nothing but question me at every given opportunity. He wasn’t nearly as bad as Toby used to be, but it wasn’t a topic I was comfortable talking about with him.

And, yes, it was exactly the same questions Toby asks, or thinks I don’t know he’s curious about.

Why do I stay up with Toby? Why does Toby look at me like we share secrets? What happened that made us so close? Etc.

Not answering only seemed to upset the other mask wearer even more, but it didn’t stop there. EJ has a nasty habit of saying the wrong thing to people at the wrong time. We’d just burned the last body of a family when he stood up and asked me the last question I wanted to hear at that exact moment.

He asked me if I was planning on reading the documents in my room.

I don’t know if it was adrenaline or my previous issues with my anger, but the fight that ensued after I heard those words wasn’t a pretty one. When we trudged back home, my whole body felt like Hell. Though, we’d both felt worse, it wasn’t pleasant.

EJ asked me another question before we went inside and alerted everyone of our presence. This time, I answered. He asked if I even cared about Toby’s well being or if he was just a science project to me. Of course, I replied that I did and he should mind his own business.

He didn’t take them. It’s not the kind of person he is, even if he is an ass sometimes.

Speaking of asses, I can hear Jeff yelling downstairs. I believe that means Kate has arrived back here. He’s always quiet rowdy when she arrives, not that I really understand why. She’s not terrible, but he’s taken a real liking to her. Though, it’s not in the way I see To...Never mind.

There is a knock at my door, but I can’t bring myself to open it. Brain has just peeked his masked head through, silence following him. I wasn’t surprised, he’s been mostly quiet since we were taken and rarely ever talks without that nifty voice changer he picked up months ago.

He’s just sitting on my bed now, waiting for me. I supposed I should talk to him now. After all, I can’t add much here. If anything happens today, I’ll do a Entry #6.2 As for now, I’m off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an additional part on Oct 31 for halloween as a special chapter. Stay tuned!


	7. Entry #6.2

Entry #6.2

*An excerpt from Analyzation of Hoodie by Timothy Wright*

Brian is many things, as I have previously stated in my entries for him. One thing I haven’t marked down, and probably should have done first, is the way he truly is my friend.

Slenderman never erased our, meaning everyone under him, murderous memories when he took us. He let’s us stew over them. It keeps us emotionally unstable so he can puppeteer us as he likes. We don’t know how we’re alive or what made us so special, he took those memories. Everything else, including my murdering Brian, stayed.

He’s never blamed me, something I never could understand. He treats me the same as he always has.

He talked to me tonight about my changes in attitude in regards to Toby (check Toby’s pages for more) and my recent tense nature around Eyeless Jack. Revealing how I feel to Brian has never been an issue for me, I guess it just made me nervous after Jay died so I’ve been putting off telling him anything.

But, Brian understands me and what I was saying. He was calm and cautious, he always was, but he didn’t go easy on me either. His brand of tough love always helps, so I just let him scold me for a bit.

I think, if it was even an option, I would want Brian to have lived a normal life rather than myself. He just deserves it, I guess.

He thinks I’ll avoid talking to Toby about what’s going on. In all honesty, it seems like something I would do. He’s also noticed how Toby and I aren’t talking as much right now, so at least I know it’s not all in my head.

Also, and I’ll be adding this to Kate’s entries as well, they’ve bet on us. I’m not sure about specifics, but Brian won ten bucks after I admitted I didn’t exactly hate Toby. Of course, I didn’t use those words.

Brian just knows me, makes an effort to know me, in a way not many people have. I’d say I owe him my life, but that’s probably not appropriate considering I’ve killed him once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented! You are why I get excited to post these chapters.
> 
> Don't worry, you haven't seen the last of those documents ;)
> 
> I apologize for the late post. My wifi went out yesterday and I wasn’t able to post this half chapter.


	8. Entry #7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby isn't weak.

My name is Timothy Wright, otherwise known as Masky. This is the seventh entry in my analysis of the individual known as Tobias Erin Rogers, aka Ticci Toby.

Recently, I’ve been thinking more and more about the pain adverse boy. I’ve come up with more conclusions.

The first is that Toby is talented. If you’ve ever been hunted by him in a scenario where you’ve tried to run and almost got away, that fact becomes extremely evident as his hatchet is buried into your body from a very far distance. It’s his most distinct skill. He doesn’t see value in chasing people down with his stamina still as low as it is, which almost seems like a getaway plan for his victims until he starts throwing weapons like he’s a professional.

I went with him on a few of his firsts missions to keep track of him and teach him anything Slender thought he needed to know, like covering certain tracks. I believe it was his fifth mission, my third with him, when I saw him display his skill for the first time.

The girl, not very pretty and not at all bright, was begging us for her life. It was irritating, her voice, but I wasn’t allowed to slam my crowbar into her head. Toby’s kill, Toby’s rules. He was busy finishing off the girl’s friend when she took off running into the forest, escaping the tent. I whistled to catch Toby’s attention before running out after her, preparing to not kill her but incapacitate her for him.

Turns out, he didn’t need me to catch her. I was about a foot behind her when the older one of his hatchets flew past me and buried itself in her skull. I stopped with her body falling like a rock, staring back at Toby in surprise. He simply walked towards us, grabbed her feet, and dragged her back towards the tent as if nothing had happened.

I think that’s when my jealousy of him first sparked. He was new at this, killing people, and he was handling it professionally and without a hitch. Of course, right after that we were at each other’s throats day in and day out.

Toby’s skills have only improved. Of course, he still has weak spots, but he makes up for it with his other strengths. I’m actually kind of proud of him, if I’m showing candor only. Toby’s focus is always hard to control, so it’s surprising that his aim and timing are impeccable. A zig zag line is not going to help you run from Toby. If anything, it makes it easier since it presents a challenge for him.

He and Jeff have that in common, throwing their weapons with deadly accuracy. I know he’d never admit it, but Jeff only started doing it after Toby arrived and showed off his skill set. I do believe it was purely Jeff’s jealousy of Toby that led him to pick up that skill, but he’d never use it as a daily thing. It’s just not Jeff’s style, whatever that may be.

Why, may you ask, am I just now discussing Toby’s skill that he’s always used? Well, I joined him on hunting down a group of drunk teenagers a few miles west of us today and I got to see it in action again. It reminded me of how smart Toby can be, to think on the spot and aim with only a millisecond of time and be fatally precise every single time.

I should clarify that we’re still being awkward around each other, but I’m trying to fix it. I think he just feels ignored, which I can understand. A mass pick up in work tends to mean I’m avoiding something. And, to be fair, I was, it’s just not what he thinks it was.

But, even being awkward around each other doesn’t dull our skills. It was a large group, three tents with four drunk off their ass teenagers each. Slender picked us because of our efficiency, so it was expected to be somewhat harder than our solo kills.

We stalked them for an hour or so, lurking in trees above them to narrow down where they all were. Four girls, eight boys. All drunk and easily manipulated. Of course, I wanted to section them off as usual, but Toby had other plans. I think it was his way of getting revenge against me, not that he’d admit it.

He had me take off my mask and lure some of the girls out from the camp. It was so stupid, but it worked and they followed me without hesitations. Three girls now lured away, Toby sat in his tree and let me take care of them with my crowbar. One slipped away, but Toby had her pinned to a tree with a hatchet poised at her neck before she got far.

Once they were dead, we had to kill the others before the drunk kids figured out some of their friends were missing. We tried to seperate them, but then Toby fell out of the tree after a nasty twitch and drew attention to us. It ended up more like a cinematic battle than a precise murder.

Bad thing about drunks is they fight back as if they could actually win. It’s almost sad, killing them after that. Almost.

We had them mostly handled, but Toby was trying to fight two and keep track of the ones trying to run while I was killing two myself. I knocked one down when I turned my head to look and saw Toby throw a hatchet and it nail the back of a boy’s head without him even turning to see.

It grabbed my attention too much and almost got me killed, but Toby had enough of a view to see and whistle at me. Without thinking, I slammed my crowbar to the right of me and turned to finish off the kid attacking with a beer bottle. I guess Toby still amazes me, despite being a little shit.

Toby is solid. You may be thinking that’s inaccurate, but to me it’s the only adjective that feels right in this scenario. He may be unpredictable and impulsive, but he’s a set in stone person. He sticks with his weapons despite one being brand new and the other very old. He rarely changes his mind. He’s not a pushover. He will fight back, even if he doesn’t have to sometimes.

He’s the kind of person you don’t have to worry about just disappearing, the kind of person you don’t have to reach out and touch to know he’s real. You wouldn’t want to touch him randomly, so I guess him being solid is good for more than just that reason.

He’s dependable. I know, Toby doesn’t seem all that dependable when you first look at him, but I’ve never known him to take an order and not complete it. He’s just not to type. Perhaps he’s like me in that aspect where I can’t stand to have an uncompleted task. It gnaws at my anxiety.

It’s hard to remember that Toby hasn’t seen everything I have and vise versa, especially with how we clash heads sometimes. At times, he drives me up the wall, both in a good way and bad way. 

Toby isn’t weak. He’s resilient. He outlived his trauma, outlived everyone who’s been close to him before.

Toby is my friend. He’s someone I care for. Not too many of those these days. I don’t want him to outlive me because I’m being stubborn or vise versa.

I hate the space between us.

I’ll talk to him tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Please enjoy this chapter, I worked hard on it. The next week is going to be full of spam writing chapters as I only wrote 1-6 and adjusted them as I went. So, lots of editing and rewriting is going to be done. If you have questions, feel free to ask down below. If you have any headcanons, or anything you just feel like saying, feel free to do so. I enjoy reading your comments and I love knowing you guys like my story!
> 
> Happy Holidays! Expect the next chapter around Christmas!


	9. Entry #8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of Kidneys, Hatchets, and Crowbars.

My name is Timothy Wright, otherwise known as Masky. This is the eighth entry in my analysis of the individual known as Tobias Erin Rogers, aka Ticci Toby.

Toby is… 

I have to apologize, I find it hard to write anything of use today. My pencil is sharp, my paper is fresh and unmarked. The house is mostly silent. And yet, my thoughts are jumbled. I can’t bring myself to conjure the right words.

I find myself consumed by my thoughts, something not very rare, but unable to write any of them. The feeling is foreign to me. Writer’s Block. Perhaps explaining recent events will clear away the invisible wall preventing my words.

Eyeless Jack and I have reached an uneasy truce. Uneasy is a very mild term. It’s more like we started a fist fight at two in the morning, I got pushed down the stairs, and then Kate and Ann locked us in a room until seven this morning. My jaw is sore, as is my throat from all the fighting and screaming.

I chipped his mask, which made me feel a bit better about myself.

In the end, it gave us a chance to fix our problem. After a while, you just stop fighting and start listening I guess.

It only worked cause of Toby. I hate to admit that.

When Jack pushed me down the stairs, Toby had been up and in the living room. His yelp of worry surprised both of us, maybe even himself. It didn’t matter though. As soon as Toby had helped me up, Kate and Ann were dragging us upstairs.

He was… worried about me. I’m trying not to look more into that.

Telling Jack the truth, all of it, felt freeing. It was a weight off my shoulders, but it also adds another large weight back on. Jack is so close to Toby, it would surprise me if Jack hadn't already told him everything. But, he hasn’t.

Not yet.

Besides Jack, I feel like others have picked up on the fact that I have more than just friendly feelings towards our resident twitching boy. Of course, Brian knows, Kate probably suspects if Brian hasn’t already confirmed it. After all, they had a bet going. I think Ann knows, she keeps giving me looks. Jeff and BEN are suspicious as well, but they always are anyway. They have the mischievous look in their eyes that I only see when they’re messing around with us.

Speaking of him, Toby and I are relatively back to normal now, as normal as we can be, and I feel very reassured. But, it’s different. Something has shifted even more in our relationship.

I’ve mentioned before that Toby randomly enters my room and sits on my bed, watching me or annoying me until I decided to entertain him. But, now he’s not. He sits on my bed, quiet except for the occasional question, and then waits. It freaks me out.

Instead of mild annoyance at his distractions, I now feel distracted in a completely different way. Perhaps it would make more sense if I mentioned the thing that’s changed the most.

Much like myself, Toby doesn’t often remove his goggles or mask. Half the time he refuses to even lower the hood on his jacket. He randomly decides when and where to take what off, but it rarely lasts too long.

I’ve seen his whole face every day this past week and I have no idea how I did it. The day after I apologized and we made up, Toby started coming in every day like he used to. Now, however, he locks the door and takes off his goggles, hood, and mask, placing them on my bedside table without a care in the world.

Needless to say, it drives me crazy.

And, unlike before, the name Masky barely appears. It’s always Tim now, or some variation of it, almost as if he can’t stop saying it. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate it in the slightest, but it’s another distraction I now have to deal with. It was fine before when it was a mix of the two. Now it’s less friendly, more affectionate. Kill me.

The locked doors threw me off at first, my hormone soaked brain taking it way beyond what it meant. It wasn’t for inappropriate reasons, but rather to keep people out of my room. To give him time to cover his face again.

Mine as well, since I’ve also removed my own mask so he felt more comfortable. It’s odd being like this, this soft, but it also feels good. Nice.

We tell more stories now too. Simple things about ourselves to keep us entertained.

Right now, he’s laying on my bed telling a story. His twitches, tics, and stutters persist, but it doesn’t bother me. Nothing about Toby really bothers me anymore. Except when he’s being a little shit.

The story he’s sharing consists of how he used to hunt bunnies on his first real missions, but he could never kill them.

Toby asks if I understand when he talks about their tendency to be harder to kill than humans.

I do.

This strange and new space between us is more comforting than the larger one from before. It’s nicer than I’d like to admit. It makes me...frustrated? I’m not sure what to do or say at what time. I’ve never had a situation like this. I don’t know how to exist like this with Toby, but, at the same time, I’m looking forward to figuring it out.

My only solace, besides the boy himself, is that Toby finds it just as uneasy as I do. Often, he intentionally calls me Masky again or hesitates to remove his goggles. It’s almost like he realizes the shift suddenly and freezes, just as I do.

I want to approach the topic of my feelings for him, to find out if they are requited after all, but I must face the facts.

I am scared, no, terrified of it all. Terrified of losing him, of being judged by him. I’m scared of ruining it all simply because I am impatient.

Murderers like me, creepypasta, don’t get happy endings. That’s why we’re serial killers, not Batman type vigilantes. We don’t get a Diana or a Cat woman. Selina Kyle wouldn’t suit my tastes either way.

But, then again, Helen and Dina seem plenty happy together. They’re different than we are, but maybe not as much as I make it out to be.

Of course, this all implies Toby like me back, a fact I can’t be sure of.

And yes, writing that out still makes me feel asinine to write. I wish I could just say love, but I don’t feel it yet. It would feel like a lie.

I don’t want to lie to, or about, Toby. It feels iniquitous.

Part of me questions if he does have feelings towards me in the way I have towards him. Maybe it’s extremely obvious and I’m subconsciously blocking it out. It wouldn’t be so outlandish, after all I lived over half my life without really knowing part of myself was a mindless slave to Slenderman.

Toby changes things for me. Everything about him, his gashed cheek, his brown eyes, his emotional issues, his bloodthirsty looks, all of it changes me. Even the tiny bandaids, we stole them from little kids’ houses, on his fingers change me.

He’s fallen asleep on my bed as I’ve written this last bit. I can’t bring myself to wake him. I’m weak in this state.

Perhaps a nap is what I need too. There does look to be enough space left on the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, you guys have left so many comments! I just can't help but tear up! Often, I see them when I go to school and it drastically changes my mood! Finals have been tough, but I had the motivation to fix this chapter up for you. I hope you enjoyed and stay tuned! Also, someone messaged me asking if fanart was allowed. Heck Yes.
> 
> To those who have been asking questions about the story, you get gold stars! I love you all!


	10. Entry #9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby continues to be a mystery.

My name is Timothy Wright, otherwise known as Masky. This is the ninth entry in my analysis of the individual known as Tobias Erin Rogers, aka Ticci Toby.

Like most of the others, sleep has always eluded me or been a challenge. Whether it be via nightmares or insomnia, we’re all sleep deprived. Except Jeff, he sleeps like an angel, the little shit.

Us proxies, mainly Kate and I, are the lightest sleepers. Trained by Slender’s cruel attacks and vicious wake up calls, we awake at the smallest of sounds. So much as a creak in the floorboards and we’re rocketing out of bed, grabbing for our weapons. Even if I still hated Toby, I wouldn’t use the ear plugs just for sake of habit from years of waking up easily.

Toby is no different, normally. Lately, with the lack of sleep, he’s been getting to be a heavier sleeper. Nightmares have wrecked him enough that he’s exhausted constantly. Of course, it’s not deemed a real problem until it messes with his work, which it hasn’t.

Now, I can’t say I’m exactly against the heavy sleeper he’s grown into. He’s pretty nice when he sleeps. He mumbles in a different language, which creeped me out at first, and twitches, but he’s calmer. And, he cuddles in his sleep. I’m serious. He latched onto me in seconds like a heat seeking snake and hadn’t let go for hours.

It was disgustingly...cute? Annoying? Terrifying? God, he drives me insane.

Either way, it provided more information, and I’m always accepting of it.

Someone like Toby wouldn’t be expected to be a heavy sleeper. Killers never are. However, he slept like the dead. It was a nightmare free night, thankfully. I’m not sure how I’d deal with that situation. Imagine that, the bipolar twerp waking up without his security hood, goggles, or mask in a room that isn’t his. On top of that, with me held down by his form.

And I do mean held down. He practically had me pinned down and not in the way you would expect. I had a whole conversation with Brian about it after he inevitably sought me out. I feel like he has a second sense for me sometimes, but that’s not the point.

And, while I do stand by my comments on Toby being somewhat...pleasant in his sleep, he’s also violent.

I’m not sure how long I was asleep when Toby punched the shit out of my jaw. It was, luckily, the only injury delivered to me during the entire incident. I forgot how hard his knuckles are with how little skin is left on them. Built up scar tissue and bone, that’s all he is.

After that, I tried escaping, which did not work, and earned a nasty set of ten crescent shaped indents in my left bicep. I was worried he was gonna rip open my jacket, which no amount of cute face can make up for. Thankfully, it was fine.

I was awake for a while before I decided to just embrace the situation, and Toby, and sleep while I could. He was gone when I woke up, which made me worried.

I wasn’t sure if he got spooked waking up in a different place or if it was because of me, or if he had stuff to do, or whatever it was. I’m still not sure, I haven’t left the room yet. I was too conflicted, so I just sat down and started writing. I forced myself through six pages worth of stuff about Eyeless Jack and Kate each before I even attempted writing this.

Toby is so confusing sometimes, and I know I can’t blame him for that. It wouldn’t be fair, would actually be pretty hypocritical really. But, it’s still true.

He can be cute one minute, stoic and murderous the next, and then laughing like pure sunshine after that. It’s people like him that make me nervous, even without all the feelings I have surrounding his presence.

I probably sound deranged. Perhaps I am.

I don’t know how to feel about it all.

I close my eyes and I can still feel his breath on my right cheek and his nails threatening to draw blood on my left arm. I can feel my heart going wild and my brain screaming not to move. And, as well as all the cute things, I can still feel the ache in my jaw from his fist. No, I will never let that go.

Actually, that’s perfect. I’ll talk to EJ. Unlike most people, he’ll actually help me. Well, he might try to stab me again, but it’s far more efficient than asking someone like BEN to help. I’ll have to wait a few hours, Jack won’t be back home until late tonight.

While I wait, I’ll continue writing.

I could sort out some theories and questions I had. They do pertain to Toby. Might as well.

My favorite theory is the one where, should I call him the full name of Tobias, he might be just as affected by it as I am. Nobody calls him it, not even Kate or EJ. Toby has always been just Toby, Ticci Toby.

Perhaps I’ll slip it in conversation soon and see how he reacts. Privately, of course.

I have a nagging question, one I’ve been thinking about for a while. Why Toby removes his walls around me. As far as I know, he does this for no other person. I’ll also ask EJ about it, discreetly.

He seems to treat them as protection against the world around him, as if they hide his flaws. Physically, maybe they do. Yet, he removes them in here, a place outside of his comfortable room. A place he could be vulnerable.

With no inclination towards a romantic aspect, I have a theory about the answer.

Assuming Toby is still as anxious about our friendship as I am and as he seemed to be the last few months, I believe he may be doing this as a way to establish a layer of trust we’ve been missing. We kill together, and yes that requires a ton of trust, but we also needed a layer of a different kind. It’s quite smart of him to pick up on that.

Also assuming I am the only one, it could also mean he trusts me more than anyone else. Perhaps, in his mind, showing me the face behind his walls is a grounded feeling. Like, he spent too much time hiding away that he wants someone to know every inch of him?

Maybe I’m completely wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time.

I still hear the gasp he made when EJ shoved me down the stairs. He knows it wouldn’t kill me, my proxy mark would have to be ruined first, but he still worried. Even if it’s purely friendship, it makes me feel, I don’t know, warm inside? Less like I ruin the world being alive?

I feel like vomiting, that was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever written.

EJ will be back soon. Until then, I might try grabbing Kate and talking to her about Toby’s recent behavior. She knows him pretty well, so her opinion is valuable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to be posting this! I've read so many nice messages and comments and I can't help but be excited. I'm absolutely in love with writing and creepypasta, so the support I've been given is, much like how Masky feels, warm as a mothers hug! If you ever want to ask questions or talk out your theories in the comments, DONT HESITATE! Half, well most of, the time it helps me edit my chapters to fit the material properly and add more the certain scenes. Have a good day/night and enjoy what is to come very soon!


	11. Entry #10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh God we're getting into the shit now.

My name is Timothy Wright, otherwise known as Masky. This is the tenth entry in my analysis of the individual known as Tobias Erin Rogers, aka Ticci Toby.

I have never been a people person. They don’t make sense. Emotions are complicated, moral codes are often contradictory. Humans are an anomaly. Power hungry, greed ridden, selfish humanity soaked sponges I’d sooner drive a knife through than embrace.

They have their good attributes, I concede. Their foolish natures always provide a balance for us as killers. Always interesting to kill in one way or another. Of course, it’s just as infuriating as it is comforting.

Their self sacrificial nature is fun to watch, their confident stance as they step in front of the intended kill. When you compare yourself to them and their actions, it is bad temper inducing.

Toby doesn’t need protection. Any creepypasta worth their weapon doesn’t need anyone watching their back, myself included. It’s an unnatural feeling to want to throw yourself into danger for someone else’s well being, I have experience now. He does as well.

I disappointed Slender this week with my performance. I won’t get into it here, but it was bad and earned me a steep punishment. It would have been fine had I been alone, but I’d been on an assignment with Toby and Brian.

I could see Brian flinch slightly when it happened, so I don’t think I should have been surprised that Toby would try to step in. He ended up with a broken arm and a large cut on his forehead.

He’d gotten lucky.

Toby’s been in my room since we’d busted through the door a few hours ago and Ann set the bone and wrapped it, and stitched the cut up. He was lucky he couldn’t feel the pain the miles we trekked back in darkness, it would have been excruciating.

He’s been asleep for a while and I can’t find it in myself to join him. My head hurts from being knocked around, and my ribs are painfully healing best they can. I would’ve had worse, but Slender needs us for now and Toby was unnecessarily injured too.

I owe him a ‘thank you’ I suppose.

Either way, it wasn’t all that happened. Truthfully, I didn’t remember it at first, but Toby mentioned something to me when I came into my room after he did. I called his name and, when he didn’t respond, moved closer and called again in what I hate to refer to as worried voice. Then, he replied in the quietest voice I have ever heard from him.

_You called me Tobias before._

Out of every reaction he could have had, calm and distressed like he was hadn’t been expected in the slightest. And, now that I’m considering it, Toby was knocked out the minute he connected with the wall. But, he’d heard me, well enough to recall it and to know it wasn’t his nickname.

I didn’t, couldn’t reply.

It’s been a few weeks since my last entry, and calling him by his full name had been unintentional. I hadn’t gotten around to testing the theory and, judging by the results, my hypothesis may be spot on. I’ll continue to test, later.

He sleeps in my room most of the time, and Jack will not let it go. I swear, sometimes I think he’s jealous and then I remember he’s just a fucking asshole. A somewhat, and begrudgingly, helpful one.

Speaking of, I did get around to speaking to him. He offered council, it feels weird admitting he helped me on a romantic issue. Does he even want me to be with Toby? I have no idea what his motivations are.

He agreed with my theory of Toby adding a layer of trust.

Kate was not helpful. Not. At. All. She’s on my shit list right now. Instead of helping, she merely grinned at me and pointed out my apparent obvious feelings with a mock stutter. I have never wanted to stab her more than that moment.

 

Regardless, I feel more confident in my ability to discern Toby’s actions when his closest things to friends agree with my theories.

 

I think I may be in

 

Nevermind, I can’t do that right now. I don’t have the mental capacity to even attempt dissecting that particular body of stress and hormones.

 

Tobias. I write the name, I whisper it to myself. It feels otherworldly.

Sometimes, I wonder where this is all leading to. Toby isn’t the type to abandon someone for having feelings, but he also isn’t the type to do something for the sake of other people. Truth be told, he’s also an asshole. I solved the mystery of his and Jack’s friendship, I guess.

I mean, I’ve always known he’s annoying. A more acceptable annoying recently, but nevertheless, a little shit to the bone.

Toby gets me in a way nobody else does. (Note to self, never let Brian near this entry.) He’s hard to deal with, but he’s also impossible to stay away from. I revolve around him, in theory. I feel as though at any second, we’ll collide and destroy each other. But, it doesn’t scare me.

 

 

If I do feel that way that shall not be named for him, specifically Toby and only Toby, then I have no idea what to do with the information. Do I assume his feelings? Or push them aside until he speaks up first? Maybe I say something, or just throw this damned notebook at him. I want the last option, the violence fits the scenario.

I think I’ll join him now in dreamland. My eyes are heavy and his calm breathing is, shamefully, like a lullaby. I miss those.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUP FUCKERS
> 
> That was violent, I apologize.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed. I'm here to ask you a question. What do you think is next? What will happen? SHARE YOUR THEORIES
> 
> ALSO THANK YOU CHAIY0403 FOR THE SONG SUGGESTION, IT WAS ON REPEAT THE LAST TWENTY SOMETHING DAYS I WROTE THIS IN.


	12. Entry #10.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHECK OUT BLUME ON MY PROFILE

So, I’m not sure how to start this one.

I’ve never really done this before and, frankly, it’s kind of dumb.

Toby, the kid who follows us around as our kind of leader, is actually pretty okay. He’s not malicious and he can crack a funny joke every once in a while. He’s serious when it comes to staying in line, which keeps us all pretty safe on missions.

But, Toby with Tim? I don’t know how to feel about it.

Also, hi Tim. When you read this, you’re probably going to be confused as all hell. If you think I didn’t know where you hid this thing, I’ll be very offended.

Anyway, back to my riveting commentary.

Tim and Toby. Toby and Tim. God, Tobias and Timothy.

What have I gotten myself into? I just wanted to make nature documentaries. I did not sign up for marriage counselor.

Okay, now that I’m reading this sad and somewhat complicated declaration of love to Toby, I can see their relationship. At least now I won a bet. Kate was convinced Toby and Tim were doing more than just sleeping the past few days, but I know Tim is classier than that. And no, that’s not an invitation for you to be nasty just because I pointed out that you’re the opposite.

Honestly, Toby could do worse.

They’re so obvious around the house. Newsflash, those masks do nothing when you’re practically undressing the other with your eyes. Seriously, Tim. It’s getting weird.

I swear to God, if you throw the notebook at him and solve your issues like that, I’m going to bury you alive.

Also, I’m stealing your pen. It’s blue and it’s mine now.

\- Brian ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added per request and to announce my other story Blume on my profile. It's also Ticcimask ;)


	13. Entry #11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim contemplates the forward step and his friendship with Brian, who can't keep his nose out of Tim's notebook.

Recently I’ve found myself caught up in thoughts of death again. Being mostly immortal, I can hardly be blamed for the slight obsession. I think everyone develops one at some time or another, killer or otherwise.

Excursions into towns often involve me researching for hours about whatever He deems fit for me to go over. Of course, that also presents a bit of time for myself. This week I tore through books on famous serial killers and facts about Death Row inmates. It was pretty informative, but also raised a couple questions.

We’re all serial killers, mass murderers. We all qualify to be placed on Death Row, if not executed immediately. What would our last meals be? Personally, I’m not sure. Something warm and home made, maybe. A comfort.

Of course, this is all relying on Slenderman actually letting us get captured and executed. Sure, we’re just his underlings and basically worthless to him, but it’s not exactly a piece of cake to make more of us. It takes years to hunt us, lure us under his gaze. Many of us just kill ourselves to escape.

Moving on.

I noticed an extra page added to this section and, with all due respect, fuck you Brian.

I should’ve seen it coming; Of course he knew where I’d hidden it. And now, thanks to his blabbermouth, I have the nerve to feel embarrassed. Toby and I being obvious? The thought unsettles me. Given this fact, we’re starting today’s entry with an analysis of Brian’s addition and my response to it.

Brian has a bias when it comes to this. He bets on us and has prior knowledge of my relationship with Toby that nobody, excluding myself, does, as well as his friendship with me. He’s far more likely to spot changes in my behavior than anyone else. Given this information, not everything he said can be viewed as pure and unadulterated fact.

First of all, this is not a “sad and somewhat complicated declaration of love to Toby” at all! It’s an intelligent and highly uncomplicated analysis of Toby, that’s it! And, before you smirk at me after invading my privacy and reading it again, no Brian. I am not getting defensive.

Anyway, he also stated the bet at the time involved my sleeping in the same room as Toby… The same bed, maybe. It wasn’t clarified. Kate assumes more happened than just sleeping. She’s wrong, of course. Not that I wanted any- Scratch this topic, moving on.

Toby and I watch each other. Of course, that’s no news to me. Why wouldn’t we? I watch him because I’m analyzing him and, sometimes, because of other reasons previously mentioned. And he is wary of me, that unstable trust and all.

Brian, why must you rattle my brain like this? Regardless, this update is nearly two weeks after my last one. The current status leaves us with Brian and EJ both gone, Toby’s arm still healing and cut a small scratch you barely notice, and my ribs still aching. Headaches come and go.

Kate has been helpful, tying some makeshift curtains up in my room to block out the light and bringing me cool rocks she finds. Beside the notebook on my desk is a smooth and flat one she says reminded her of me.

The house has been more quiet, more and more work coming in. I’ve only just returned from town a few minutes ago. After checking in on Ann downstairs and Toby on the couch, I went to put away some papers I’d collected and decided on writing in here. Of course, I had to read Brian’s entry first and attempt to remain sane.

I’m not sure what to write as of now. Toby is mostly quiet, sleeping and healing his arm. He’s not having nightmares again yet, the momentary stop a blessing, but he’s still acting strange. I assume he’s stressed from Slenderman’s attack, it always affects us worse than anything.

He now sleeps in my room, had EJ and Kate move the bed in here while I’d been gone a few days ago. I’m not against it, obviously, but it rolls out a whole new list of things to analyse. Some sound creepy. Just bare with me.

First of all, sleep patterns. A high influence on a person’s behavior is their sleep. How much, how little, how well, and where they do it is just some of the ways it can affect the person. Honestly, I’ve always been fascinated with the affects.

Next is routine. You can learn a lot about a person from their repeated actions. So far, he’s exhibited the fact that he’s an early riser, even without nightmares, and likes the quiet. I wonder if it’s because everything is just _less_ when he’s still drowsy.

Along with these, Toby talks in his sleep. Small words and, of course, always in a different language. I looked up what I believe some of the words are. Highly possible it’s some form of German, but I don’t speak it so I remain unsure. I’ll look into it, of course. Why he would know the language, I have no idea.

Perhaps he took it in school. I learned latin myself.

I hear someone arriving home. I’m going to join Toby downstairs, see if I can find out what’s wrong or confirm my theory. Until next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Sorry about the wait, but I wanted to make the time seem matched up a little more and, I'll admit, I was really excited about the next chapter.
> 
> A question for my readers:
> 
> I have the proxies existing with their traditional mark upon their body somewhere. I've mentioned it before, but I'd like to clarify. In order to kill a proxy, their mark must be destroyed or removed from their body.
> 
> So, where do you think Toby's mark is? Kate's? Brian? Timothy?
> 
> Also, is there anything you hope to see in upcoming chapters? Or any music you link to Ticcimask cause I could use some :)
> 
> Sorry for the short update as well, but I'll make up for it ;)


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